One of my earliest memories is realizing that my head was so huge I couldn’t lift it off my crib mattress. It was awful. From my shoulders up I felt like a piece of garden hose jammed into a medicine ball. And I really wanted to move my head, too. I wanted to participate in the life I could hear just outside my room: my mom passive-aggressively banging pots and pans in the kitchen, my dad complaining about his job, my sister murmuring threateningly about how much she missed being an only child. I yearned to be part of it all. But I couldn’t, because I was being held prisoner by my giant head.
It turned out I really did have a giant head. So big that as a Little League ball player I had to buy my uniform cap from the coach’s catalog. It was pretty embarrassing.
COACH CRETIN: Okay, Shore, whaddaya? An extra-large?
ME: I think so, coach. Probably.
CC: Well, let’s make sure. Parker’s got an extra-large there, doncha’ Parker? Shore, try on Parker’s cap. Jesus H. Christ. Look a’ that! You can barely get it to balance on yer head. What are we gonna do for a cap for you, Shore? Pin it on? Ya’ can’t wear wear that in the field. It’ll cut off the circulation in yer head. Whatta we gonna do, Shore? What are we gonna’ do for a hat for you?”
ME: I dunno, Coach.
CC: Well, crap. I guess we’ll just have to order ya’ a cap from the managers’ catalog, then. It’s gonna cost ya’ extra, though. You tell that to your mom, Shore. Tell your mom your new cap’s gonna cost you more, on accounta ya’ got a head like a blimp. Don’t forget to tell her that, Shore. Tell her it’s gonna’ cost more money.
ME: Sure thing, coach. Say, why you’re at it, why don’t you order my jock and cup through the managers’ catalog, too? My head’s not the only thing that’s adult-size, you miserable Nazi troglodyte.
Okay, I didn’t say that last part.
Amazingly enough, there was a kid in my neighborhood with a head even bigger than mine. What a noggin Tommy W. had. It was like something you’d see floating down the street in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, threatening helicopters, terrifying children, knocking over skyscrapers. I think the main reason Tommy’s head looked so much larger than even mine was because he had such a small face; it was like his face had just given bloom to this monster growth around it. Plus, his head was spectacularly, perfectly round. Plus his mom cut his blond hair in a buzz-cut all around his head, so that his head appeared to be radiating largeness. Poor Tommy W. He was a good guy to hang out with. Especially when you needed some shade.
Anyway, that’s one of my first memories: lying face up in my crib, staring at the ceiling, being oppressed by my giant baby head. And then my mom’s gargantuan head was suddenly looming over my crib walls. Man, was her head mobile. She moved that thing around as easily as I flapped my arms — and I excelled at arm flapping.
And her black hair! She had one of those 50′s bouffant helmets. It looked like it weighed a ton. I was afraid it was going to drop right off her head and kill me.
As a baby, I was always afraid my mom was going to kill me. That awful to say, but … there it was. She was a deeply angry woman. At the moment she was leaning over my crib looking at me, I realized that the best thing I could do to ensure her not killing me was to become as cute and lovable as possible.
“Goo-goo,” I said.
She smiled.
“Goo-goo!” I said.
****
Posted by Carina on January 31, 2008 at 5:24 pm
This may be one of the singularly most hilarious things I’ve ever read!
Thanks for the exceptional mix of light-hearted humor and serious, Christ-centered discussion I’ve found on your blog. I just found it today, and you can count on me being a regular reader. =)
Posted by tam on January 31, 2008 at 5:36 pm
Too funny! Thanks for that…
Posted by transplantingme on January 31, 2008 at 6:36 pm
now my oldest has a big head… big enough that it caused a close friend to ask me if it bothered me that his head was so big. big enough that when he crawled he had to either push it or drag it, but he couldn’t lift it. it’s an absolutely beautiful big head, though!
Posted by Kelly on January 31, 2008 at 6:59 pm
Brother. You are my new favorite supplement connection. Serious RDA for optimal health is frequent belly-laughs. One John Shore daily.
Much love in Jesus!
Kelle Belle
Posted by sheryl on January 31, 2008 at 7:20 pm
You crack me up John. Especially the part about the coach making a big deal about the cost of your hat, and your head being as big as a blimp.. I figured you would turn it into a message about ‘having a big head’, but you didn’t. You kept it lighthearted. Thanks for the laugh. After the day I had I needed it.
Sheryl
P. S. I hope you got permission from Tommy to use his last name
Posted by Sergmummy on January 31, 2008 at 7:24 pm
Hi John you take me back to a time when my boy cousins thought that my head/face was so big and round – they nicknamed me ‘busstop’. Our busstop signs are round and red. I really loved my cousins, since I was the only girl at the time, and I always felt protected from the other guys when I was with them – but they tortured me with the busstop head. And they would shout it from a far ways off.
I am their fav cousin now.
Posted by Brian Shields on January 31, 2008 at 9:29 pm
I grew up with abnormally large teeth in a small mouth (no one since has EVER said I had a small mouth.. but still) so I kinda grok your point here, John. I’ve also spent a fair amount of time staring up at my ceiling recently imagining the cities and civilizations in the dry wall spakle. Oh well, I don’t associate with normal people, that’s why I love you, John.
So while we’re all glowing in the warmth of this great story, can I be the troublemaker to ask, Why can’t this story be read as a tribute to the natural process, the way we’ve (uh oh, he’s gonna say it, hide your kids eyes) EVOLVED to look to our mothers for nurture and protection. That child at that moment DIDN’T NEED GOD. He had his mother. She created him (Okay the dad’s seed had something to do with it) It wasn’t until later, when he has words that there’s the need to teach him there’s a Daddy above who has all the answers.
This is a great story that humanists could identify with just as much as Christians. Sorry John, even when you try to avoid it, the Christian-Non-Christian argument is just around the bend.
Your friend and persistent Model Agnostic
Brian
Posted by John Shore on January 31, 2008 at 9:33 pm
Well, but, actually, see, if we read the story, what we see is that the boy is actually AFRAID of his mother. See, he DIDN’T actually look to his mother for nurture and protection.
You TV people. You never READ.
Posted by Leif Sr on January 31, 2008 at 10:13 pm
I’m going to send you a doctor bill for the stomach cramp I’ve developed from laughing too hard. I’ve cried so much if I had contacts on they’d be fused to my eyeballs. I’m afraid the neighbors might call the cops because of the strange howling coming from my place. If I land in jail will you bail me out?
Posted by Adrian on January 31, 2008 at 11:09 pm
Hi John,
Was that intentional blasphemy? – what the coach said after you tried on Parker’s hat.
Posted by John Shore on February 1, 2008 at 4:41 am
Leif: Yes, I will bail you out of jail. They’ll take a check, right?
Adrian: Are you asking me if the coach purposefully blasphemed? I don’t know. I wasn’t inside what there was of his mind.
Serge: BUS STOP!! Too cruel! And so funny, of course. Kids. They’re such … little Don Ricklesi.
Kelly: That was sweet. Thank you.
Sheryl: Thank you for the kind words. And yes, I got permission from Tommy to use his last name. I hope. I had my lawyer contact his family. Today Tommy is a Hollywood publicist. His business card reads, “Let’s Give YOU a Giant Head, Too!” We’re waiting for him to get back to us.
Posted by windyblue on February 1, 2008 at 5:25 am
Those were the days John, and all we did was eat, sleep, have our diaper changed, and we did not have a care in the world.
Heck, A big head I know people who do. And I know people who have big feet too. God made us all different, what a blast.
If we were all made the same way, well I guess all the fashion designers and shoe stores would be out of business.
Now look at us, we have grown up and worry about most everything.
Posted by K. A. Young on February 1, 2008 at 6:11 am
Chuckle–a good thing with morning toffee coffee. TY, JS
–kathleen
Posted by ric booth on February 1, 2008 at 7:01 am
When I first saw your photo on this blog and marveled at the outline of the dome emerging from your swept back hairline, I thought, “Wow, I wonder how many Watch Your Head signs have been damaged by that.” Of course, I was just a toddler back then.
Posted by Samhain on February 1, 2008 at 7:02 am
“It was like something you’d see floating down the street in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, threatening helicopters, terrifying children.”
Too funny. Hysterical
Posted by Daniel on February 1, 2008 at 9:06 am
Too hilarious! My bunny bones thank you.
Posted by John Shore on February 1, 2008 at 9:30 am
Your BUNNY bones? Hmmm. So either you’ve got to go see a doctor, or you’ve got a bunch of flat, flaccid rabbits lying around your house. I hope it’s … um … neither.
Posted by Hjordes on February 1, 2008 at 10:54 am
That was a great read! I laughed loudly until I got to the end, and abruptly shut up. I was JUST thinking about Gavin de Becker’s statement that, “At core, men are afraid women will laugh at them. At core, women are afraid men will kill them.”
Which led me to the thought that at core, children may be afraid adults will kill them. When they test our boundaries maybe what they are really testing, small step by small step, is our love for them. How will these giants treat me if I do…. this. Or this. I remember being afraid of my mother, and being a very Good child.
Posted by Morse on February 1, 2008 at 11:56 am
You think you had it bad? When I joined the freshman football team they had to order a special helmet for the huge melon on my shoulders.
Posted by Moe on February 1, 2008 at 12:22 pm
Hysterical. I loved it.
~Kelsey
Posted by John Shore on February 1, 2008 at 6:00 pm
Hey, Hjordes. Oh, yeah, I DEFINITELY remember thinking my mom could kill me. No question. How could I NOT be aware of that? She’s huge, 1,000 times stronger than me, and clearly operates on free will. And as far as I can tell, my main thing in life is to … periodically smell horrible, and literally suck the life out of her. Not exactly “Next, on Regis!”
Posted by Skerrib on February 1, 2008 at 6:32 pm
I’m told that when I was an infant, my pediatrician insisted on checking me every month because my head was so alarmingly big. Somehow I grew into it though because, while I do wear big hats & such, I don’t recall having to have any custom-sized headgear.
Posted by John Shore on February 1, 2008 at 6:35 pm
(Look. The whole top of my head doesn’t even fit in my little side-picture here. I can’t stand it…)
Posted by Sabina on February 1, 2008 at 8:20 pm
Just imagine birthing a big head. I love my kids/but ouch!
Posted by Tam on February 1, 2008 at 10:04 pm
Sabina – I am with you: OUCH! Luckily my son has a normal head.
Skerrib: monthly checks on your head size by the DR?! Must have been huge!
Posted by Penlee on February 2, 2008 at 1:17 am
John I just love your messages keep them coming, coming….
Posted by Brian Shields on February 2, 2008 at 5:02 pm
I think I did read the previous piece correctly… that the “fear and trembling” of the child’s mother corresponds with the later third-circuit fear and trembling of God… and that the child’s conditioning to be “cute and cuddly” was to curry favor with the Mother… in the same way that the religious constantly flatter and ego stroke “god.”
e.g. “Belief in the traditional sense, or certitude, or dogma, amounts to the grandiose delusion, “My current model” — or grid, or map, or reality-tunnel — “contains the whole universe and will never need to be revised.” In terms of the history of science and knowledge in general, this appears absurd and arrogant to me, and I am perpetually astonished that so many people still manage to live with such a medieval attitude.” (Robert Anton Wilson)
Posted by John Shore on February 2, 2008 at 5:28 pm
Brian: You atheist, leftist hippy! A scourge upon your … normally unscourgeable things!
But to your point: I never said anything whatsoever about the “fear and trembling” of the child’s mother. The mother was never fearing or trembling, you obvious stoner.
About that quote: See, now, you have quotations within quotations within quotations here, so it’s actually hard to be sure what’s being said by whom. But it seems to hinge on the “never needs to be revised” description. But my understanding of God — my “current model” of God — is, in fact, constantly being revised. It’s growing ever more complex, ever more subtle, ever more interesting, ever more direct, ever more sublime. I KNOW I don’t comprehend God; I know I never will. In the sense of having the knowledge that I have fully grasped and understood God, I have no “certitude” whatsoever. And I certainly have no dogma. In probably the most important way people CAN agree, Christians, I would venture, agree with Atheists, agree with Agnostics, agree with anyone sane: One of the worst things you can do in this world is believe that you already know all there is to know about the truth.
Posted by Brian Shields on February 2, 2008 at 7:41 pm
I must have been stoned when I wrote that since I clearly intended to say the fear and trembling of the child towards the mother (or other authority figure.)
I assumed you were calling me a stoner because I quoted Robert Anton Wilson (who wrote books with Dr. Timothy Leary, the greatest philosopher of the 20th Century, in my opinion)
Posted by Skerrib on February 2, 2008 at 8:10 pm
Tam–I’m told it was spectacular! Eventually I guess the dr’s were satisfied that I was fine, because I never even knew about it until after I had my first kiddo…who has quite a melon of his own. Takes after his mama.
John–thanks, now all I can think of is Beavis & Butthead! Or Mr Mackey, mmm-kay…
Posted by atomic_hairdo on February 16, 2008 at 8:03 pm
John,
Wow.. that was great! This is my first time here and I love it already! Funny thing is my 2nd son has the same issue… giant head. AND had the same problem in little league. When the batting helmet wouldn’t fit on his head he told the coach it was because his brain was so big! LOVE IT!
Posted by paroodija on August 8, 2010 at 5:51 am
haha, this is funny!
